Painful Excursions
by victorcharlie
Summary: Shall we dull this ever-buzzing pain with alcohol?


**Painful Excursions**—one shot

Leaning against the bar, she poured another glass of caramel-colored brandy before downing it mercilessly; the sphere of ice clinking to the wall of glass as she set it back down onto the coaster.

Under the dim lights of the bar, her striking russet hair was a dull brown as she leaned against the bar, aimlessly swirling the ice in her snifter before loud, obnoxious giggles reached her ears.

She turned and watched as the women flirted and flaunted their money in his face—and he took it.

'_Selfish bastard,' _she thought, taking a sip. _'You're lucky I even take you home when you're drunk off your ass. I should just leave your sorry ass here and have Tamaki come pick you up.'_ She laughed inwardly as a bitter scowl crawled on her face before taking another sip. _'Wouldn't you just love to wake up to his sorry face.'_

He sat in the farthest booth surrounded by five women, each covered in layers of sparkling jewelry, each holding a glass of liquor, and each dying to get a piece of him.

His neatly-trimmed, black tresses spewed elegantly over his face as he laughed at something one of the women said; his creamy skin peeked through his slightly unbuttoned shirt—a trick he used to entice his "companions"; and his eyes—she decided after a long debate were his best feature—hidden behind slim glasses, that held an entrancing shine that gleamed with an undesirable look of sexual appeal that attracted the women around him.

In the end, he was nothing short of gorgeous and he knew it.

After three and a half hours of intoxicated laughter and lipstick-stained smiles, the women around him slowly dispersed, writing their numbers on his arms as they were dragged away by their chauffeurs—and he was left alone in the booth.

Sighing, she downed the rest of her glass before sauntering over to his tall figure.

"You done having fun?" she asked, kicking the booth.

Receiving a snore in response, she realized that he had fallen asleep.

'_Pathetic.' _She thought crawling into the booth, reaching into his pocket for his expensive, leather-bound wallet; she collected and calculated the amount of money she would have to give for his nightly entertainment—as well as hers.

'_A bottle of red wine, three glasses of flavored rum, nine jello shots, two glasses of vodka, five martinis, and a glass of __hors d'âge for the king himself.' _She counted the empty glasses scattered around the table.

'_Twenty-four thousand, nine-hundred twenty-seven yen—so that is... eight thousand three hundred and nine yen to pay.' _She calculated before pulling him slowly out of the booth.

Hoisting his arm over her shoulder, she let out a low grunt as his weight pulled her down.

Trudging over to the bar, she dropped a third of the cash onto the bar.

"There's your share for tonight Hiroshi," she said to the bartender who nodded back in her direction.

"Now don't do anything to his poor self while he's under." He joked, his long dreads falling in his face.

Haruhi threw a glare at him. "Shut up and take you money." She retorted, smirking slightly.

Scratching at his dreads, Hiroshi counted out the money before depositing it into the register.

"I'll clean up as usual while you take him back to his penthouse—but don't you think you should have Tamaki to come pick you two up? You had three whole glasses of brandy; I don't think you're in any state to drive." He asked opening the door for the two, letting the warm night air flow gently into the bar.

Shaking her head, she pulled him out the door. "I'll just call a cab—see you tomorrow Hiroshi."

Dragging him down the street, she leaned him on her shoulder as they stood by the curb, waiting as numerous lights flashed past her eyes.

'_Why do I even put up with you?' _she thought gazing down at the sleeping man, brushing away a stray lock.

Muttering incoherent words, he dug his head deeper into her shoulder, looking for the nearest source of heat "I… love you… Haruhi." he mumbled childishly, words slurring together.

A pained smile crept onto her face as lights reflected off his glasses.


End file.
